Part 2 (1/2)

”Don't push too far,” cried Scarlett, ”or we shan't get it back. Pull.”

The boys pulled together, and the oaken tread glided back toward them with the greatest ease, like a well-made drawer.

”Mind!” shouted Fred. And they s.n.a.t.c.hed away their fingers just in time to save a nasty pinch, for the board came swiftly back into its position. There was a sharp _crick-crack_, and the stair was as solid as before, and the broad stain from the painted window lay in its old place on the dark brown wood.

Scarlett Markham turned and stared at Fred Forrester, and Fred Forrester turned and stared at him.

”I say, what do you think of that?” said Scarlett.

”I don't know. What do you?”

”I don't know either,” said Scarlett, trying to move the board again.

But it was firm as the rest of the stairs.

”Did you see that bal.u.s.ter?” said Fred.

”See it? No. What do you mean?”

”It seemed to me to move and make that noise.”

”Nonsense! How could it?”

”I don't know, but it was just the same noise as it made when you missed your hold and swung round.”

”So it was; and I had hold of it,” said Scarlett, thoughtfully, as he laid his hand on the piece of turned and carved wood. ”But it's quite firm.” He gave it a shake, but with no effect. ”You come and try,” he said.

Fred took his place, and shook the bal.u.s.ter, then the other--its fellow--but there was no result.

”I don't know what to make of this,” said Scarlett. ”I wonder whether all the stairs are made the same. There, never mind; let's go and fish.”

”Stop a moment!” cried Fred, excitedly. ”Look here; you can turn this thing half round. See!”

”Well, that's only because it's loose. They're getting old and--”

_Crick-crack_!

Scarlett Markham started back, so quick and sudden was the sound, but only to resume his position on his knees before the oaken stair-tread, which again yielded to a thrust, and glided under the landing once more, leaving the opening the length and breadth of the great stair.

”Why, it's like the lid of a sliding box, Scar,” cried Fred. ”Now then, let's pull it over once more. But look here, it won't go any further.”

This was the case, for about an inch of the carved front was left for them to take hold of and draw it back, which they did, the board gliding easily toward them, and closing with a loud snap.

”There! I did see it then,” cried Scarlett.

”What?”

”That bal.u.s.ter. It half twisted round. Why, Fred, it's a hiding-place.

Here, let's open it again. Perhaps it's full of gold.”